Phoebe McQueen, her face a mix of concern and dignity, rushed in, trailing behind the maids who had slammed open the door as she surveyed the wreckage of her son's sanctuary.Ethan's shoulders sagged. The phantom warmth that had briefly flickered across his features...Ava's warmth...died like a candle snuffed in strong wind.'Right, an illusion, a hopeless dream borne out of what?'Longing?He was longing for Ava?Why? Ava was not warm, at least he didn't remember her being warm during the time they had spent together married.Her blue gaze had always held a stoic acceptance, but he remembered, at one time, a time that seemed to be ages ago, those icy blue eyes had held warmth.Though not directed at him,He'd watched his grandfather, that formidable old man, melt into gentle laughter under her gaze, watched those frozen eyes thaw into something achingly tender.And then when that gaze had turned to him, seeming to praise him, who was there just for appearances he had been struck.'A
"A recording?' "Yes" The man sitting across Ava mopped his bald glistening head, his huge frame encased in a bright pink suit seemed quite peculiar, drawing glances from people in the quaint coffee shop they were meeting. The amused gazes quickly shifted away though when they caught sight of the bearlike men surrounding Ava. 'Not our business' 'This Latte is very delicious' 'Why aren't they leaving? Is she some celebrity?' Behind the counter, the shop owner wrung his hands and muttered as another potential customer peered through the glass door, took one look at the human fortress, and hurried past. "Third one this hour," he muttered, wiping down the same spot on the counter for the dozenth time with a vengeance. "My contact in the persecution says the case was settled so quickly because it was made clear that there was a relationship between them." "A relationship? What kind?" Ava asked, her eyes unreadable behind her dark sunglasses. "That..." He shifted in his chair, whi
The phone's click echoed like a gunshot and Victoria released the breath she did not know she was holding. She watched George set the receiver down with the reverence of a man placing a crown on his head. Her world tilted. The walls seemed to press closer, stealing the oxygen from her lungs. She watched George's triumphant smile spread like poison across his face, and something inside her chest cracked open,raw. "Ten years." Her voice came out strangled, barely human. "Ten years I gave... everything, everything I had." "And I gave you purpose, A voice, you're only what you are because of the Blackwood name I gave you" George replied, tapping his chest before straightening his tie. "Talent? Skill? Pshaw! Without me, you'd probably be painting watercolors in some dusty gallery nobody visits." "Pah!" The slap came before Victoria realized she'd moved. Her palm connected with George's cheek, the so
Victoria’s knees trembled, her hands clasped together on her lap tightly trembled just as much, she felt lightheaded but she refused to fall. Her heart pounded like war drums in her chest, each beat louder than the last. The room was suffocating, tension thick enough to be cut with a knife filled it."You used me," she said again, louder this time, her voice trembling with fury. "You destroyed me, your own daughter for a promotion?"George didn’t blink, he grunted as he leaned back. “ Hmm" he drawled, his narrowed eyes never leaving hers. "I built something. You were just... collateral.”Helena’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood, her eyes burning into George’s skull. “You call this building? You’ve turned our name into ash.”Victor Odolo stepped forward, his smirk deepening. “Ash fertilizes the soil, darling. From ruin comes power.”“Don’t speak to her,” Victoria snapped, her voice cracking like a whip. “Don’t speak to any of
Victoria's voice trembled with rage and shock as she stared at Victor Odolo, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and incredulity. The room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with tension as all eyes turned to the unexpected arrival. Helena's gaze narrowed, her expression a mask of displeasure. "Victoria, language," she warned, her voice icy. George Blackwood's face darkened, his eyes flashing with anger, but he remained silent, his jaw clenched. Mayor Caleb Blackwood leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Ah, Victor. Welcome. I think we're just getting to the point." Victor Odolo's presence seemed to electrify the atmosphere, his confident stride eating up the distance as he moved further into the room. His eyes locked onto Victoria, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths, but his expression remained neutral, unreadable. Victoria's hands were fists now, her nails digging in
'Step step'Victoria's footsteps echoed against the gravel floor, each step showing a steadiness she wasn't feeling. "Miss Victoria's back," one maid murmured to another, their voices carrying across the vast space. "About time," the second replied, not bothering to lower her voice. "Look at the state of her."Shutting off the voices, she continued down the drive towards the Blackwood residence.The grand estate stands majestically, its stone façade weathered to a warm, golden brown that whispers tales of centuries past. Ivy crawls up the walls, as if trying to claim the mansion as its own, while intricately carved wooden doors, adorned with gleaming brass hardware, swing open to reveal a world of opulence within.Inside, sweeping staircases curve like swans' necks, their banisters polished to a high sheen by generations of gentle hands. Crystal chandeliers refract sunlight into kaleidoscopic patterns on the walls, casting a ka